The Space Between Heartbeats
by the-bronze-seeker
Summary: A nervous Neville reveals his  somewhat grudging yet undeniable  love for our favorite Ravenclaw. But does she love him back or is her head too far up in the clouds? T for some language and thematic elements.


The ingenious Ms. Rowling owns Harry Potter and its characters. I claim only the plot.

This idea has been bouncing around in my head for a few days so I decided to let it out...

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><p>Neville had never been so terrified in his entire life.<p>

Not when he faced his boggart, or when he had endured the taunts of Bellatrix Lestrange in the dark corridors of the Department of Mysteries. Not even when he had charged forth and slew Nagini with the sword of Gryffindor.

No, the object of his greatest fears was currently sitting behind a wooden desk, harmlessly autographing book after book that was pushed her way.

Luna Lovegood.

It had started that fateful day in fifth year when they were forced to share a compartment on the train. He had been startled by her wide blue eyes. Eyes that seemed far too childlike to survive in such dark times. Then again, he had heard the rumors, the breathless utterings that swirled through the corridors about Loony Lovegood. So he had kept his distance—the last thing he needed was to provide his old tormentors with further ammunition for their cause.

Yet soon she became impossible to avoid, showing up at every DA meeting in the Room of Requirement. Inevitably, they were always paired together (for who would want to partner with either?). He found, much to his surprise and chagrin, that she was _good._ Phenomenal, even. That she deserved her place in Ravenclaw despite what others said, and that it was only he who remained a misfit among his fellow housemates.

But for all her superior spellwork, she never criticized his own. She coaxed him in that calming voice of hers until finally he caught her disarmed wand in his outstretched hand. The grin that stretched across her face mirrored the one on his as she gave him a quiet round of applause.

It was then Neville realized that Luna Lovegood was kind.

Though Neville had grown closer to Luna, he was still shocked to see her that night. He watched her skip forward and begin petting that ghastly creature invisible to most others. She stroked along its skeletal form and sunken skin oblivious, he thought, to the fact that the beast could easily trample her underfoot.

As if reading his mind, she murmured, "So misunderstood. I know just how you feel." Her tone not one of sadness but of empathy, devoid of any self-pity.

When Harry called them all to order, he again could not hide his surprise as he watched her mount her thestral. Neville understood why _he_ was going. His loyalty to Harry and a vague sense of allegiance to Sirius Black, who had served with his parents in the original Order, spurred some long lost fragments of bravery deep within him. But what about _her_? Why was she risking her life? All for the sake of a few recent friendships?

It was then Neville realized that Luna Lovegood was brave.

Years later he stood at the edge of the battlefield, surveying the rubble and the stains that marked where a life had once stood. He couldn't bear to remain in the Great Hall any longer; it only reminded him of how truly alone he was, stranded in his own sea of despair.

He had jumped when he felt her hand take his, intertwining their fingers. They stood in silence for a few moments before Neville turned to her.

"Luna, why are you out here?"

Luna continued staring ahead, searching for something. Finally she pointed toward the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"I saw Marietta standing there with the thestrals. She's not really welcome in the Great Hall, you know, what with her giving away the DA and all. I went to see if she wanted anyone to talk to but you know how some people are. Living statues incapable of change. Anyway, she was insulting them when I came over. Calling them revolting. When I tried to persuade her otherwise she called me a freak and stormed off."

"How ironic," he muttered.

"Not really. Marietta Edgecombe is a twat," said Luna calmly. Not an insult but a simple statement of fact. "Then I saw you and here we are."

"…Not that I'm not completely flattered Luna, but shouldn't you be in with your dad?"

"Oh no," murmured Luna. "He's busy groveling to Harry about how he wants to earn his forgiveness. It was terribly rude of him to call those Death Eathers in, after all. And before everyone could finish their Gurdyroot infusion…They ended up knocking most of the house down—they even destroyed our horn of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack!"

He gave her a long look. "I think your dad could really use his daughter right about now."

She met his gaze evenly with her own. "Not any more than you could use a best friend."

Neville turned to face her, thunderstruck by the very idea. No one had ever given a second thought to him before. He studied her then, wanting to memorize every detail of the moment. He took in her long blonde hair, matted with grime and gore. The paleness of her bruised cheek and scratched legs. The warmth of her slim fingers that were so entwined with his own that he didn't know where one started and the other began.

It was then Neville realized that Luna Lovegood was beautiful.

After that day, Neville hadn't seen Luna again. Instead he went on to become the professor of Herbology, eventually growing so content with his life that his thoughts of Luna slipped away like whispers lost on the wind.

Until one day when he was walking down Diagon Alley and he happened to glance at the window display in Flourish & Blotts. There, on the cover of _Astounding Annuals of the Amazon_, was Luna, tilting her head and smiling. He immediately hurried into the store to question the owner about the book.

"She apparently spent a year in South America," he had explained. "Her funding was to support the discovery of new species in the area, but she devoted her own resources to cataloguing the exotic plants. Said that she had a friend who she knew would appreciate it."

Neville then paid for his own copy before settling into an armchair that had been tucked away in the corner. Enraptured, he read until the owner was forced to kick him out in time to close up shop.

It was then Neville realized that he was in love with Luna Lovegood.

Which is how he found himself waiting in line for the chance to see her again after all these years.

Finally, _finally, _he reached her desk. It shocked him to see that she had grown up. He had imagined that Luna would stay frozen in place, casually defying the laws of time. But then she turned to face him and he caught sight of her butterbeer cork necklace and her radish earrings and her wide innocent eyes and he _knew_. He knew that she was still _his_ Luna.

"Hello Neville," Luna said with a grin.

Neville felt his ears burn as he nervously sputtered, "W-would you s-sign this for m-me?"

He passed her the book, his flush deepening as she looked over the worn cover, the dog-eared pages and the note-filled margins. He watched as her fingers began to trace his slanting handwriting.

"It looks well-loved," she whispered.

"Oh it has been," said Neville desperately. "For a while now."

"What should I write?" she asked.

"Something honest. That's one of the things I've always l-liked about you, Luna. That no matter what, you've always been completely honest," he babbled.

A shadow crossed her face as she bent to inscribe the page. "Not always, Neville. Nobody's perfect. _I'm_ not perfect."

Neville shifted uncomfortably at her words. In an effort to distract them both, he asked "So how _was_ the Amazon? What were the best and worst parts of the whole thing?"

Luna paused in her writing.

"Hmmm…I did see a Lethifold. Which is incredibly rare, you know. It nearly killed one of the muggles in the village I was in. While everyone was sleeping it just, sort of, seeped in and wrapped itself around the poor fellow. And all the plants there are _enormous_. The venomous tentaculas were nearly three feet across—and the umbrella flowers I came across were twice that! The wrackspurts were unbearable though, especially on hot days. But I think that the radio waves from those muggle mobiles help repel them."

Throughout the course of her description, Neville had been steeling himself. He summoned every ounce of his Gryffindor courage, every bit of determination he had inherited from his parents and every shred of his disused pride as he prepared to profess his unrequited love to Luna. But her next sentence stopped him dead in his tracks.

"I'll be returning there for this summer, possibly longer. I wanted to see if there were any Nargle populations indigenous to the region."

Neville felt his stomach plummet to his feet. How could he compete with her love of adventure? How had he allowed himself to hope that she would settle for boring?

"Here's your book, Neville," she said, sliding it across the table. "I hope I'll see you again. Before I leave."

"Right…yeah. I, ah, I guess I'll see you around then, Luna," he said dully. He picked up his book and then trudged out of the store, the crushing depression already settling heavily in his chest.

He ran his fingers along the edge of the cover, unsure if he wanted to read what was inside. What on earth had possessed him to ask her to write what she really thought of him? He had long imagined that Luna was the right person for him: which was the entire problem. If this woman—who shared his interests, who understood him, who saw the good in _everyone_—if she didn't want the heart he was offering up to her on a silver platter, then who would? Who else could ever…?

But Neville was nothing if not curious, so he took a deep breath and flipped to the front page which was adorned with Luna's loopy scrawl:

_ Neville,_

_I would like to start out by saying that you have always been my very best friend. There is __**so **__much that I admire about you. You have so much hidden courage that you always manage to find whenever it matters the most. You are loyal to fault and have such passion for the things you love. And you have __**always**__ made me feel worthwhile. _

_You said that you always admired my honesty, so here it is: I'm in love with you, Neville Longbottom. See? Not as honest as you thought. Omission is as meaningful as any lie, and as you and I both know, what __**isn't **__ said is just as important as what __**is.**__ I don't expect anything from you, Neville (I doubt the Nargles have taken your common sense as they seem to have mine). It's not an ultimatum, it's a fact. _

_I wish you the best in everything and I hope to see you again. Someday._

_ Love always,_

_ Luna_

Neville stood frozen as if he had been placed in a full body-bind. Luna loved him. She was just as unfathomably, irreversibly, head-over-heels in love as he was. He read the note once more, before strengthening his resolve. He would show her brave.

Neville turned on his heel and marched back into the store. He strode to the front of the line, despite many grumblings, and halted in front of her desk.

She seemed floored, and incredibly nervous. "Neville," she whispered, "why are you here?"

Neville gently cupped her face, his thumbs tracing the length of her cheekbones.

"Because I love you too."

And with that, he lowered his head, his lips brushing softly against hers.

He pulled back after briefly to gauge her reaction.

She seemed blissfully dazed and, after a moment she dreamily murmured, "Unlike the wrackspurts, I rather like the way _you_ make my head go fuzzy…Neville, would…would you like to come with me. I promise we'll be back before the start of term, of course, and I—"

She was abruptly cut off as he pulled her face back to his, beaming all the while.

It was then Neville realized that Luna Lovegood was wrong.

She _was_ perfect.

For him.

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><p>So what did you think? Any constructive criticism or witty comments would be greatly appreciated!<p> 


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